Tough Nights
kyle gaz garrick x reader
a/n: i just want to hold him and comfort him tbh so have this- this been sitting in my drafts forr weeks sooo whoops- hope ya'll have a good christmas♡
gaz feels his whole body drop, causing him to jerk up, eyes flying open, grabbing onto anything closest to him. his hearts pounding, he feels like he can't breathe- it's dark. why is it dark? it's quiet. why is it quiet?
but every time he closes his eyes and tries to breathe in, all he can see is the world upside down, the rush of cars flying past him, the smell of gunpowder and dust. it's all a blur. gaz can hear the muffled words of nikolai, the distant sound of gunfire and holy fuck he was falling- there was a truck coming at him-
"kyle?" a sweet clear voice calls to him, and when he opens his eyes, there's a soft warm light. "babe?"
"y/n?" he rasps, still trying to catch his breath. he realizes where he is. what he's doing. one of his hands was clenched onto the headboard, while the other was fisted into a pillow next to him.
you shift next to him, gently reaching out to touch his arm that was closest, the one that was grasping the wooden headboard. unbeknownst to you, it dumps kyle with a wave of relief. that he isn't hanging from the damn helicopter. that he isn't alone.
but he can't get out've it. "i- i can't- i don't know-" he gasps breathless. he knows he's home. with you. he can feel your gentle touch, he can smell you, see you look at him with such softness it floods him with love- but he just can't escape that moment.
"shh, that's alright baby, breathe." you hush, carefully removing the pillow behind him, you take it's place and lean your body against him. resting your cheek against his shoulder, wrapping one arm around his front, placing your hand over his heart, letting the other slip between you both to rub his back. your legs locked on either side of him "take your time, baby. m'right here." you murmer against his heated skin. gently breathing in and out, holding him.
your body is cool against his heated clammmy skin, steady breaths a stark contrast to his shaky ones. but everytime you smooth your palm up his back and back down, he finds himself falling into a rythem of breathing in and out in sync. letting the rise and fall of your chest guide him. the weight of your body against him wraps around him like a safety net.
when you can start to feel the tension in his body relax, his arms now limp at his side, slowly, you start to lean back, slipping your other arm to his front, holding him close all the while whispering, "i gotchu baby. i got you." you relax against the headboard, his hand reaching up to cover yours that had been over his heart.
you're nuzzling the side of his head, as his other hand reaches up to cup the back of your head. his head turns, seeing you resting yours on his shoulder. he's not just looking at you, but he's absorbing every detail of your face. it's not one that's judging or calculated, not one that makes you feel like you're being picked apart. the way he looks at you makes you feel like it's just you two in the whole world.
he stares at you like you're his saving grace. the answer to his prayers. an angel sent down to protect him. brown eyes soaking you in like it's his first time seeing you. it's a comfort to him as he looks at you, allowing you to fill his senses, to ground him, to remind him that he's with you and not falling.
yet guilt knaws at him. he feels selfish. greedy. a burden. that he's sure you'd be better off without him.
"kyle." your voice is sterner and your face is tense, fuck he know he's messed up- then you're cupping his face, leaning forward to brush away his tears, shit. he had been crying? "kyle. talk to me, love." you murmer, lips brushing his cheek, hands holding him. "kyle, my love-"
"you don't deserve this. i don't deserve you-" he chokes out, when he tries to turn away, you hold still, turning him to look at you but his eyes are cast down, tears falling from his lashes, "i-i don't-"
"kyle stop. look at me. please, kyle look at me." when he does he's met with a soft smile on your face, "why do you say this? hm? tell me."
"you shouldn't have to be with someone that's riddled with- whatever the fuck is wrong with me. someone who's home to hold you every night. who isn't gone for weeks and months." it all comes out. insecurities that had been burrowed deep down, that come out all because of a stupid memory. he's alive- he knows he's alive, yet there was a slim chance that he could've been coming home to you in a wooden box and he tells you.
he doesn't know what he expected you to do. to cuss him out? yell at him? claim that he's right and leave? now that thought had his heart hammering. but you do none of that. you listen to him. hold him like he's your lifeline. and to you he is. you catch his tears with tip of your fingers. stare at him with no judgement but a softness and gentleness that has him trembling.
"i could die on the feild and leave you-"
"leave me? kyle you would die but you would never leave me." your word have his brows furrowing, "you'ld be with me every second, every breath i take, you'ld be with me. you could die, yes. i know that. but the memory of you could never go. each and every one so important to me, from the way you like your tea, to the way you laugh at the dumbest jokes,"
"i would never trade you for someone simply because there are days you aren't here. every moment we spend together is so fulfilling that i know i could never experience the same with another person." before he could turn away to hide the flush of his skin, you're capturing his chin, looking at him with a steady gaze.
"there is nothing wrong with you. do you understand? what you go through my love, i could never fault you for how you react to it now." you murmer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
all the while he stares at you with such softness and vulnerability that you knew you could never find in another. as if you needed any other when all you needed was here in your arms.
"i love you." he says, voice tender. "fuck. i love you. will always love you."
"always?" there's a slight tease in your tone.
he nods. "always."
"i love you kyle." you say, wiping away the last of his tears. "will always love you."
"always?" he whispers as you drape your arms over him, holding, touching, while he does his best to do it back.
as you nuzzle into his shoulder, you respond, "unfortunately." he feels your smile against his skin, while he turns to nip your exposed ear, smiling at the small squeal that releases from you. he's quick to kiss where he nipped. trailing a line of kisses till your turning to look at him. "always." you confirm, a grin falling on his face before your lips meet.
Requested? Yes!
WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, loss of virginity (socially constructed theory ok), swearing, discussions around sex/consent (jason is a consent KING ok)
Summary: You can’t tell if the scene in this romance novel is realistic. When Jason finds out why, he offers to help explain.
A/N: the ending sucks, I struggled a lot writing this tbh. It’s so much harder to write first time situations IMO. I also really wanted to balance realism with sexiness. First times are not uber sexy or perfect, but they also don’t have to suck. Picture not mine, found on google.
Aside from the soft croon of Ella Fitzgerald and the occasional shift of a page turning, the apartment was relatively quiet. Gentle rain battered against the windows of Jason’s apartment and the comforting scent of the Bath and Body Works candle you had forced him to accept one day enveloped the two of you.
The tank of a man was sprawled out on the couch with the edges of a crocheted afghan Cass made was tucked around the both of you. Your feet rested in his lap and he occasionally ran his hand over your calf.
Ever since you started dating Jason Todd, days like this were some of your favorites. He brewed some tea, you set out some pastries you picked up from the bagel under your apartment, and the two of you just spent some time reading. No fancy dates, no expectations, just the two of you relaxing.
Keep reading
summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet
note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.
“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down.
you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind.
(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)
“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.
he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”
“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.
“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.
“i’m sure he will.”
silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so.
aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.
you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two.
“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.
the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.
“do what?”
“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.
“why do you think so?”
“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave.
“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”
he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”
“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”
he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.
“i love you.”
“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed?
you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”
you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”
“i don’t know.” he whispers.
“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.
the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear. for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
Omg requests are open-
Can I get a scenario of Xiao x reader, who is super insecure about themselves, and one day after a particularly harsh comment from Xiao they just start crying? They know it’s just how he talks, but they can’t help but feel like he doesn’t even like them sometimes...with lots of fluff at the end if possible pls. ;’)
Ty so much!! I LOVE ❤️ your blog!! I hope you have a great day :3
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: xiao x gn!reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: harsh words from xiao, insecurities, not proofread
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: thank u for the request! and honestly this is so possible w xiao :( he's very blunt :( but he means well!!
xiao knows you're insecure
... kinda
it's one of those things that have been buried deep within his mind. he's not going to think about how you stare at yourself in disappointment, or how you seem to hate the sound of your own voice
it's not that he's cold, he's just unaware. unaware of the true depth and meaning of the word 'insecure'
an example is, right now. right now, after he merely responded like how he did to all mortals, you were crying. and a part of him hates the sight of your tears, yet at the same time, he's confused
why? why are you crying? he can't seem to tell, so when he stretches his hand out and you recoil, it's when xiao realizes
oh.
the problem is him.
"[Name]...?" Xiao called your name weakly—no, wait, not weakly... hoarsely.
The adeptus was dumbfounded. Why were you crying? The peculiars of mankind would forever confuse him, and this instance was another one of them.
And then he watched. He watched as you hid away from his gaze, refusing to accept his touch as if he were a searing hot pan.
xiao bites his tongue and walks away. he concludes that if you do not want to speak to him, then he will not force you
to him, the action was necessary and logical. to him, it is a good moment to cool down and look around
but to you. to you and your wounded heart, you and your growing anxiousness—that was goodbye. xiao has had enough of you, after all, he has much more to worry about than someone like you. someone who was weak compared to his strength
oh, how xiao was so utterly oblivious to "the peculiars of mankind"
so after a few hours, xiao returns. he returns... no different from how he was before. he's a stubborn yaksha after all, a little patrol will not somehow make him realize his wrongdoings
imagine his utter shock when the door to your room is still locked, and there's no sign of you emerging
hm.
so he knocks. three times. three times before huffing and turning away
fine. if you didn't want to see him, so be it!
and like the stubborn man he is, he leaves to go finish his adeptus duties
Xiao heaved out a sigh of relief once he saw you at the balcony of Wangshu Inn. Concluding, 'they're finally done crying', he approached you cautiously before standing right beside you.
"Xiao?" You noticed his presence instantly, and the adeptus couldn't help but recoil once his name left your lips.
Countless of times has he told you 'whenever the world caves in, call me. I'll be there', yet this insignificant moment, this brief time where he wished his name was the last thing that slipped from your mouth, Xiao had realized:
'I messed up.'
The way you spoke his name made him retract because of the dying storm that seemed to cascade from your throat. Like your anger was bubbling in place of your sadness, a thunderous crash and bang.
"... Do you even love me?" You spoke without a reply, as if you didn't care about what meaningless fodder would trickle from his mouth.
xiao pauses, his urge to reprimand you for such a question skyrocketing
did he love you? definitely! did you think he'd return if he didn't? did you think he'd come knocking at your door, asking—begging for you to open up?
and all of this inner turmoil is stuff xiao suffers from alone. he's used to suffering alone, and this, this is not any different
"of course i do," he says with the most sincerity possible, as if he were making a vow or a contract to rex lapis during the archon war
"it doesn't really feel like it," you look at him with a gaze that'd break his spirit if it weren't for him being battle-worn
and this. this insignificant moment is the moment xiao realizes how deep your scars go. how you too had been suffering with your own inner turmoil, just as he
for someone like xiao, saying sorry isn't easy. he has many things to be sorry for, but he does not utter such words so carelessly
"i'm sorry," he whispers to you, to the night sky, to liyue and to the spirits of old
he knows these two words will not earn your forgiveness, they should never. so encased within that 'meaningless' sentence, xiao promises:
i will never hurt you like this again.
that is his contract. his long overdue contract.
don't worry, we're still close — tsukishima k.
third yr tsukishima k. x third yr fem!reader│word count: 2.4k
synopsis: Tsukishima just wants to spend time with his girlfriend, but after a brutal volleyball match, he feels sleepy.
cw/tags: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship
The moment they stepped through the front door, Tsukishima was already tugging yn’s wrist, muttering something about how she could talk to his mom later. Yn had barely managed a polite smile in his mother’s direction before she was being guided up the stairs, past the familiar picture frames and the smell of dinner just starting.
No more delays. He’d waited all week for this.
“Kei! Yn-chan should stay for dinner!” his mom called from below.
“She hears you,” Tsukishima replied over his shoulder, too tired to make it sound anything but clipped.
Yn answered sweetly anyway, her voice echoing back downstairs as Tsukishima opened his bedroom door. He let go of her to dump his bag beside the desk, kicked off his shoes, and dropped face-first onto the bed with a soft grunt.
Everything hurt. Legs, back, brain. Volleyball matches this deep into the season were nothing short of brutal. But even now, he could feel the tug in his chest more than anywhere else—because yn was still by the door, and he wasn’t spending time with her.
It had been nearly two months since they’d last properly hung out. They’d both been swallowed up by their clubs and the looming pressure of college entrance exams, barely managing hallway greetings and late-night texts. That’s why, when she called him last week to say she was coming to his game, he wasted no time asking her out for a movie date afterward.
He cracked an eye open, the sound of her voice still lingering as she spoke to his mother. The golden light from the setting sun caught in her hair, painting her skin in this warm, glowing filter that made his already-tired heart squeeze.
She looked right at home standing in his doorway. And she was still kind enough to reply properly, to make his mom smile. He couldn’t stand how much he liked that.
“Close the door,” he mumbled into the sheets. “She’ll start asking about the game and I’ll lose you for an hour.”
Yn chuckled, finally closing the door before padding over to his bed. “It’s because you never fill her in.” The mattress dipped under her weight as she sat beside him and lightly poked his cheek. “You should be careful, you know. Soon, I’ll be the favorite child.”
“Pretty sure she already likes you more than me and Nii-chan,” Tsukishima sighed. His hand caught hers—intending to push it away, maybe—but instead, he pulled it gently to his cheek.
“Ooh, imagine if she adopts me,” yn teased, eyes sparkling. “I’d be your sister.”
Tsukishima jolted upright, pinching her waist with a scowl. “Don’t even joke about that. It’s gross.”
She shrieked with laughter, swatting at him as his hand chased her across the bed, his exhaustion forgotten for just a moment. She was always infuriating with her dumb jokes.
But it was nice to hear them again instead of just reading them through texts.
Eventually, they both collapsed into the mattress, the energy slowly draining out of their laughter, leaving behind a comfortable silence. Yn laid beside him, their shoulders just barely touching, her hand still in his.
A lazy feeling settled in, blending nicely with the soft hum of life downstairs and the distant clatter of kitchenware. Tsukishima let his eyes fall shut again.
They should be watching something right now.
“Give me five minutes,” he muttered, voice muffled by the pillow. “I’ll set up my laptop.”
He felt her shift beside him. “Are you sure?” she asked softly. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m not,” he replied flatly, eyes still closed.
“Kei.”
There was a different note in her voice this time. Not teasing. Concerned.
He opened one eye just enough to see her watching him. Her brows creased, lips pressed together in a way that made him look away almost instantly.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled.
“You don’t have to push yourself, you know,” she said gently. “I came to see you. We can just hang out. Or nap if you want.”
He hated how his heart fluttered at that.
Tsukishima rolled onto his back with a groan, one arm flopping over his eyes. “I didn’t ask you to come all the way here so I could nap.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” she pressed on. “I’d just... rather you rest if you need to.”
Another beat of silence.
Then, very quietly, he mumbled, “I missed you.”
He felt her fingers twitch against his, a tiny, startled reflex.
Tsukishima kept his arm over his eyes, his voice low and gruff. “So, no. I’m not gonna fall asleep. I want to spend time with you.”
The honesty hung between them, vulnerable and heavy in the sinking golden light. She leaned over and gently tugged his arm down until he was looking at her.
“I missed you too.”
Her eyes softened, full of quiet affection. She withdrew her hand from his and reached up, brushing a bit of hair from his forehead, fingertips featherlight.
“But I still don’t want you pushing yourself. There’s always next time, you know? You don’t have to cram all your energy into one night just for me.”
Tsukishima blinked down at her, her touch loosening the knot in his shoulders. But even that comfort turned on him, stirring the fears he’d worked so hard to keep quiet.
“That’s the thing,” he muttered, voice low. “I’m not so sure there is always a next time.”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, then sat up slowly, not looking at her right away. His hands were folded in his lap, fingers fidgeting like they were trying to twist themselves.
“I know we said we’d make time, but we’re going to different colleges. You’ll have your own schedule. New people. New routines. And so will I.” His jaw tightened. “But even before that’s started, it already feels like I barely see you.”
Yn listened quietly, not interrupting, her eyes steady on him.
“And it’s not like I think we’ll fall apart or something,” he added quickly. “It’s just…” He trailed off again, searching for the right word to shape the fear he didn’t usually let himself acknowledge. “It’s stupid. I just—I don’t want to look back and realize I wasted the time we do have.”
There was a long pause. Then, he muttered under his breath, “Sorry. I’m not good at saying this crap.”
When he finally met her gaze again, yn’s face lit up with a tender, knowing smile.
“It’s not stupid,” she said, pushing herself to sit upright. “And it’s not crap.”
Tsukishima didn’t say anything, but she didn’t seem to expect him to. She went on, her voice dropping a little.
“I think about it too,” she admitted. “The distance. The changes. How fast everything is moving. There’ll be days when we’re too busy or too tired to call. Maybe even weeks.”
She leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “But Kei… I know us. I know that no matter how much time passes, when we do talk again, it’ll still be…”
Her hand found his again, fingers sliding between his, squeezing them. She paused, a small laugh slipping out.
“... you. Probably still messing up my hair instead of saying hi. Fixing the strap of my bag without saying anything. Pinching me when I make jokes, like earlier—ow, by the way.”
That earned a snort from Tsukishima.
“And me? Still making bad jokes on purpose. ‘Accidentally’ stepping on your shoes when you call me short. Pulling your hoodie strings just to annoy you. Trying to act all cute just to hear you say I am.”
A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but she didn’t let him deflect.
“That’s what I mean. It’s never ‘Oh, how have you been?’ with us. We don’t have to start over every time. We just… click back into place. Time doesn’t erase that. Distance doesn’t either.”
When Tsukishima finally spoke, his voice was smaller than usual. “You’re awfully confident.”
“Not confident,” she corrected. “I just know what we have. I trust it.”
He was quiet, his fingers tightening slightly around hers.
“You trust it?” he repeated, like he was trying to taste the weight of that.
“I trust you,” she said, pulling back to look at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You care more than you let on. And I know that if something matters to you, you don’t let go easily. And neither do I.”
That stopped him.
Because for the first time, all those uneasy thoughts didn’t sound like warnings. They just sounded like noise. And maybe this was the answer that he had been missing.
They didn’t have to see each other all the time to still matter to the other. It was never about being together. It was always about what they were to each other.
“… You're really annoying when you’re right,” he muttered, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Yn grinned, pretending to grab her phone. “Wait! Say that again. I need to record this.”
He huffed a laugh, finally leaning back into the pillows again. The fatigue crept in quicker this time now that the tight coil in his chest had finally loosened.
He looked over at her, eyes half-lidded. “I don’t think I can stay awake for a movie.”
She chuckled. “I know.”
Her fingers brushed against his cheeks as she took off his glasses, setting them on the nightstand.
He yawned before he could reply, the last of his resistance unraveling. As he closed his eyes, he tugged her closer, wordlessly urging her to stay beside him.
“I’ll probably be out for a while,” he murmured.
“Mhm.”
“Wake me up… when it’s time for you to go. Okay?”
“Sure,” she whispered, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.
And she would. But not until long after he drifted off, his breathing even, the golden light of evening slipping quietly into dusk.
Yn padded down the stairs quietly, the soft creak of the steps barely registering beneath the distant clatter of pans and the gentle bubbling of something simmering in the kitchen. The house smelled like miso and something savory being stir-fried, and her stomach gave a quiet, traitorous growl.
She rubbed her eyes and wandered in, still barefoot and slightly dazed from the warmth of Tsukishima’s room.
“Ah, yn-chan,” his mother greeted with a smile, glancing over her shoulder from where she stood at the stove. “Kei knocked out?”
Yn smiled softly, stepping into the kitchen. “Like a light. He didn’t even fight it this time.”
His mom chuckled and waved her over. “I’m making yasai itame for dinner. Want a taste?”
“Maybe later. I’m just thirsty.” Yn went to grab herself a glass of water and leaned against the counter.
They stood like that for a moment. Just two women in soft silence, bound by mutual affection for the tall, tired boy sleeping upstairs.
Then his mother gave her a knowing look. “You’re still looking at places?”
Yn paused with the glass halfway to her lips, then slowly nodded. “Yeah. A few more popped up this week, actually.”
His mom hummed thoughtfully, gently stirring the pot in front of her. “You’re really serious about this, huh?”
“I am.” Yn’s voice was firm, determined. “I know it’s not a perfect solution, and there’s no guarantee everything will go the way we want it to. But…” She bit her lip. “If I can find a place somewhere in between our schools—close enough for the both of us without losing half a day commuting—I think it’ll help.”
His mom smiled without turning. “You know, I thought you were just being polite the first time you brought it up. But then you started asking about train lines and furniture stores.”
Yn laughed quietly. “I just… I don’t want us to drift apart.”
The honesty of it made her chest tighten. She hadn’t said it out loud before. Not like this.
“Kei worries about it too,” yn continued. “But I didn’t want to tell him just yet. Not until we’re both past our entrance exams. He’s already stressed. If I add more to his plate now…”
“You’re protecting him,” his mom said simply, finally turning to face her.
“I guess I am.”
There was a pause, and then the woman’s expression softened into something fond and just a little proud.
“He’s lucky, you know,” she said. “He doesn’t say it much—not in words—but Kei… he’s never brought a girl home like this. Never looked at someone the way he looks at you.”
Yn ducked her head, flustered. “I’m lucky too,” she murmured. “It’s hard sometimes, but… he’s worth it.”
“Mhm. Just remember—love’s important, but life’s more complicated than that,” his mom said. “You’re both young, and… well, I won’t embarrass you with the talk—”
Yn nearly dropped the glass, coughing as she choked on her own saliva.
“—but just promise me you’ll be smart. About everything.” Her gaze was firm, but not unkind. “College is hard enough without extra surprises. And if there’s ever a question you’re too shy to ask him, or your parents or even me… just remember, there’re clinics near campus that have discreet pamphlets.” A pause. “And condoms.”
Yn turned away, a furious blush rising to her cheeks. “Oh my god…”
“Motherly duty fulfilled,” she said dryly, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “Now, I’ll just have to give Kei my version of the talk when you finally tell him.”
Then she reached over, patting yn’s hand. “But if you ever need help figuring out the other stuff—laundry, cooking, cleaning—my door’s always open, yn. And if Kei ever slacks off, text me. I’ll guilt trip him for you.”
Yn laughed, the tension dissolving into something lighter. She gave her hand a squeeze in return.
“Thanks, Tsukishima-san.”
“Just call me Mom already,” she said, grinning.
Yn flushed. “That still feels too… early.”
They both laughed, the sound echoing gently in the small kitchen.
As yn finished her water and rinsed out the glass, she glanced back toward the stairs. She already missed being next to him, even if he was fast asleep.
She wasn’t sure what the future would look like, not exactly. But knowing that Kei would be in it, and that he cared enough to worry about it just like she did, made it feel a lot less daunting.
And a whole lot more certain.
"I love you. I'm sorry."
Jason didn't mean to say it. Not like this. Not now. Not when he's buried deep inside you, holding you like this might be the last time he gets to.
But it happened when he wasn't thinking - just feeling.
You don't even notice it at first. You are lost in the rhythm, the warmth, the way he looks at you like you're the only good thing he's seen all his life.
You don't notice how his hands tremble, how his breath catches every time you sigh his name, when you moan it into his mouth.
He's not rough. Not tonight. He's soft, taking his time, like he's trying to memorize the feel of having you against him.
Jason is all calloused hands and desperate lips, tracing every curve and dip of your body he can reach, worshipping you in ways you didn't think were possible.
When he finally lets go, he trembles, both from exertion and emotion. He's buried in you, breaths coming in stutters because the feeling in his chest has nothing to do with the pleasure he felt. Because it's too much and not enough all at once.
Your eyes are closed, lips parted, and to Jason, you're poetry incarnate. You're someone who sees him, without the mask, without the guns, and you stay.
You see the broken boy who carries too many ghosts, and you still stay.
The feeling in his chest is unconscionable, and then, it slips. Soft, quiet, like someone ripped it out of him.
"God, I love you."
Jason freezes the second it's said, eyes wide, and you feel the panic in the way his body tenses. Like, he could reverse time with sheer will. Like, he wants to pull it back into his throat, but it's too late.
His truth is out there now, raw and naked.
You blink at him, dazed, a little breathless beneath him and his stomach tightens.
"Forget it," he says, voice sharp, not cold. But you can sense the fear underneath.
You know. You always do.
He tries to pull away. Tries to pretend like he didn’t just shatter himself open.
But you grab his face with both hands and force him to look at you.
"Jason," your voice is soft, but it makes him flinch.
Like, he's bracing for another person to tell him there's no love.
Like, he's waiting for you to laugh at him.
Like, he's waiting for you to see him the same way he sees himself.
But you smile. Warm, real, knowing, and it kills him.
"Say it again," you whisper, pressing his forehead to yours.
Jason shakes his head because saying it again makes it real; it means giving meaning to the storm of feelings inside him.
"I can't -"
"Yes, you can."
Your fingers slip into his hair, thumbs brushing the edge of the mask he wears even when it's not on his face.
Your expression softens when you look into his eyes. Scared, shining with tears, and carrying many more emotions than he thought he was capable of.
"Say it again, Jay."
He closes his eyes, and his walls crumble.
"I love you," His voice breaks at the words, and he's barely holding on but the last thing he wants to do is sob into your neck like the pathetic, scared boy he is.
But he also knows that you'll let him, that you'll hold him, and tell him it's okay.
And that terrifies him. Because you treat him like he's worth all the demons he brings along.
You're everything Jason convinced himself he would never deserve.
Jason inhales, blinks away the tears in his eyes, and then; lets go.
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
He buries his face in the curve of your neck and you hold him there.
He repeats the three words like they've been circling inside his chest since he met you (Spoiler: they are).
He says them like it physically hurts not to.
And then, after a few quiet moments, his face still hidden against your skin.
"I didn't mean to say it like that," his voice is soft, slightly shaky, like he's trying not to cry, "not like this. Not until I knew... you felt it too."
You laugh at that, "Of course I do, you idiot."
Jason pulls back at that, a ghost of a smile on his face, and presses his forehead to yours again.
"I love you, Jason."
His smile widens and he closes his eyes like he wants the words to seep into his bones, like he wants to carry them in his heart.
Because he never thought he'd hear them. Not like this, not from someone who truly means it.
"I'd die for you. Again."
He says the words, and suddenly your heart feels too big for your chest.
"I know, but I want you to live for me."
Jason nods and exhales like he's never breathed before. Like nothing made sense until this moment.
Like he could live here forever, and it still won't be enough.
After, he holds you all night. He falls asleep with his arm thrown around your waist and his nose pressed against your collarbone.
He falls asleep with a smile on his face.
a/n: this is entirely self-indulgent. I won’t lie about that LMAO, I don’t know if this happens to other skin tones, so I am terribly sorry it won’t be as inclusive as I want it to be (I try and make my writing as inclusive as possible for anyone!!). I am white and my skin is very sensitive when I scratch it, so this is very common for me, so I apologise for those who are looking for inclusive skin tone stuff :(
pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader in mind, though Jaybin does use “ma” because even if I’m agender, I have a soft spot for him saying that
genre: fluff, kind of slice of life
words: 1k -- should be okay but tell me if there's any mistakes I missed!!
summary: Jason spots red marks on your skin, gets super worried, and won’t stop asking if you’re okay.
art on the right is by @/ciricearts & dividers by @/saradika-graphics!!
You stood in your kitchen, scratching your upper arm for what would be now for the better part of 5 minutes. The noise of sharp yet shorter nails running against skin filled the room, or more so your ears, as you waited for that faint ding of your microwave. The milk filled mug turning in circles as you absentmindedly waited for the timer to hit zero, your fingers running over your skin without you realising. Hot chocolate was always nice company while you waited for Jason to come home. Your brain was starting to blank out more and more while the soft electronic hum of the microwave mixed in with the sound of nails against skin, your eyes slowly losing focus on the dark wooden floor. Maybe you could—
Ding!
Your hand stops its constant up and down motion on your arm, your nails scratching the skin for one last time before you moved off of the counter to retrieve your mug. Your mind blanked once more between the time you got the cocoa and sugar, and the time you were already sipping on your finished drink. And then Jason was back.
He’s tired. He’s tired and he wants to be in your arms more than anything. But at least he’s home soon. At least he’s only tired and not badly hurt. And as soon as he’s held safely in your arms, he’ll be home.
Now, Jason just wanted to go back to your apartment, change and shower, and have the best sleep next to you. But then, of course, some stuff had to go a bit sideways (he’s being a bit dramatic).
What he comes back to instead is your gorgeous self in the kitchen, mug in hand, with big, red, extremely red, marks on your arm. It was worrying. Your skin flaked off a bit, and was red. And his mind went off.
“Sweetheart?” His voice came out a bit cracked as he hurriedly took his helmet off and placed on your table. He was quick to be by your side, your arm gently held by his hands, as if you were a precious jewel he was trying everything in his power to not damage.
You, mind still somewhat blank, shook awake out of your trance. A smile came up on your face as you set the mug down.
“Hi Jayjay,” you spoke softly, your voice portraying perfectly your tiredness. “How was patrol? Are you hurt?” A small worry took over your face, but you knew he’d be acting worse if he was badly hurt.
“Sweets, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if I’m hurt,” his voice was pure worry, his eyes and body the same. “You’re hurt, what happened to your arm? Does it hurt a lot? We should put ice and cream on it. How’d you get it? Did someone do that? I swear to everything if someone did—” He’d started rambling, moving around the kitchen as his hurried words matched his hurried movements. He’s looking around cabinets and drawers, looking for that cream he’d mentioned, though it never resided in the kitchen to begin with. You just stared at him in confusion, unsure of what he was rambling about. Once his anger came out, showing that side of him that would about hurt anyone for you, you cut him off with a soft sweet laugh. He stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to look at you.
“I’m serious ma, did someone hurt you?” He asked again, a pout on his lips, though his demeanour had softened because of your laugh.
“Jay, hun, I have no idea what you’re on about,” a small sheepish smile formed on your face, as he frowned again. “Your arm, ma.”
You looked down at your arms, finding one significantly more red than the other, accompanied with some scratch marks. You were stunned, because when did that get here? You stared down at it for a moment, all the while Jason’s worry was worsening.
“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt ma?” He asked once more, before jumping back into action. “I need to find you that cream.” He hurriedly started looking through the drawers with a determination to not see you hurting anymore.
You kept staring at your arms as the puzzle pieces clicked together in your mind. And when the picture was done, you couldn’t help yourself but laugh.
You tried calling out to him through your laughs, though he wouldn’t listen.
“No, no! You’re hurt ma, can’t let you be hurt.”
“Jay— Jay, please look at me,” you said between giggles. “Jason.”
Hearing his full name made him stop and turn to you with a pout. You’d so rarely use his full name, it was always a nickname, a pet name, anything different. You’d only use it when he had to listen to you.
“Yeah?” He mumbled quietly, looking at you with that sad pout on his face, his voice so full of worry and care. His boyishness always came out in moments like this.
“Oh hun,” you chuckled, taking a step towards him to cradle his face in your hands. He leaned in on instinct. “I was just scratching my arm, see?” You smiled sweetly, demonstrating it by running your nails against your forearm. Few seconds after, and red-ish scratch marks appeared on your skin, following the path your nails took. Your hands found his cheeks again, as you pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’m okay, baby.”
Jason gently gripped your forearms as he leaned in closer to you. He gently turned your arm around to examine the marks, who were already disappearing, the big splotch of red on your upper arm already almost entirely faded, to a much lighter colour. Only then did he let out a big breath, wrapped his big arms around your waist, and buried his head deep in the crook of your neck, now breathing you in. Your arms wrapped around his neck, a hand slowly racking through his hair.
You both stayed like that for a while, holding each other, breathing them in.
…
“Can’t believe you got scared because I had an itch.”
“Shut uppppppppppp”
A long playfully annoyed groan merged with laughter in the quietness of the apartment.
again, this is entirely self-indulgent lmao, this happens to me way too much, I'll barely scratch my skin and then there's red marks on my skin for a good MINUTE, it's annoyinggggggg
I hope you guys enjoyed it, even if it isn't as inclusiv as it could be (which I am again sorry for)
I've been gone for a short minute, real sorry, I've been super busy with school and I essentially shouldn't even have been writting this in the first place considering I'm in exam season but I couldn't help myselfffffff
also!! I'm finally going to be properly setting up my blog soon, so that's going to be fun!! stay tuned for that I guess, and more stories because I wrote this in a day which is considerably really short for me :P
© mxxnechos -- please do not repost, modify, translate, plagiarise, or feed my content into AI. All likes, reblogs, comments, and follows are deeply appreciated!!
There's a lack of Gaz angst out there I feel, so I'm doing my part and letting him suffer as well.
Pairing : Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader
Summary: You can plan all you want, but half of the time they will never work out. Sequel to Under the lemon tree and On a date
Part of the Memory in a Fragrance series
Warning : T-M rating. Fluff.
Series masterlist
Master list
Kyle Garrick is a planner. AND Kyle GAZ Garrick is a METICULOUS planner.
This is why he is the best of the best. The record holder. Being mentored by the legendary Captain Johnathan Price.
But his experiences and planning never prepared him for this question.
“... What is that bulge in your pants Kyle?”
Shit.
“You want to propose to her?” Price cocked an eyebrow, surprise evident on his face.
Gaz nodded his head, shyly. “I thought it’s about time..” Looking down at his cup of tea. “I just want a bit of an opinion on how you guys did it..”
“Well, that I can give you a bit of advice on. First you need to get a ring…” “Soap. You blurted your proposal out of the blue. You didn’t even have a ring picked out. You didn’t even plan for anything.” Simon interjected.
Soap shot Simon a look. “But it still got the job done, right?”
“Can’t argue with that.” Simon grumbled.
“Yours isn’t that much better.” Soap countered. “All you did was slam the ring box on the table and asked my sister to marry you.”
“Got the job done, right?” Throwing Soap’s argument right back at him, Simon smirked.
Shaking his head, not getting any help from his two teammates, he turned towards his captain.
Before he could open his mouth and ask, he heard a voice chiming in.
“Don’t bother asking him. He wasn’t any better than Sergeant Soap.” Chameleon laughed, moving from the door towards Price’s desk, she put his cup of tea down onto his desk.
“Thanks love.” Price grumbled, “At least I had a ring picked out.”
“That you did.” She leaned down and gave her husband a kiss on the head before turning back to Gaz.
“Last I heard she had been wanting to go to the beach.” she hinted. “She always says you do the best picnic dates. So,” pointing to Gaz, “don’t screw this up.”
Your eyes brightened up when Gaz suggested a weekend getaway and picnic by the seaside.
“I haven’t been to the beach in a few years!” you smiled, “We used to spend a few days there, after the mountain camping trip, where I met you.” you noted shyly. “But I haven't been there much since I moved away from home to study, and started working.. OH I am so excited!”
And now his plan has fallen apart. Running through plan A to Z. Nothing in those scenarios helps to answer the question you just asked him.
“Um.” He flustered. Think of something Kyle. THINK. “Just rubbish I found on the beach.”
Pointing towards the bin a few metres away, “The rubbish bin is over there.”
“Uh, it’s recyclable. Don’t want to throw it into general waste.” You pointed towards the bin right beside it, “Recycle bin is over there.”
Fuck. That didn’t work. “ uh, It was an interesting shape of rubbish, I want to take it home and put it on my shelf.” He knew it was a bad idea to keep the ring box in his pants. But he didn’t want to leave it in the car or in the picnic basket where you can accidentally spot it or some random stranger or possible thieves to steal it. So the best option? Keeping it in his pocket while the two of you stroll down the beach.
“Kyle, you need to tidy up your study, you have too many things that you need to put away in there!!” you quipped. “Come on, show me what it is. I want to see how interesting it is..” your hand reaches for his pocket, ready to take out the box he is hiding in there.
‘No. Nonono. No. Um. NO.” he grabbed your hand with a fast reflex, stopping you before you could reach it.
“Kyle Garrick, what are you hiding from me?” your lips turn down into a frown. “You've been acting all strange for the last few weeks after you suggested the trip.” looking down at the ground, you started to kick sand around,“ you didn’t want to go swim in the sea, or even go near the water.” you looked back up into his eyes, eyes glittering with tears, “did you change your mind? Something is bothering you?” Did you change your mind about us? The hidden undertone and disappointment is evident within your voice.
His mouth went dry with the strong salty sea breeze blowing past, carrying a whiff of your citrus perfume that you love so much and the slight coconut scent sunscreen you insisted on applying.
“Don’t think you are in the UK and you won’t get sunburnt.” You chidded and started blabbering about facts on skin cancer etc as you smear on layers and layers of sunscreen onto his body.
Now that sunscreen is making his hand sticky and slippery as he sweats with nervousness. Making him look more guilty. He couldn’t really explain to you he was scared to go into water before so his pants wouldn’t get wet and make the ring box more evident, or in that slim possible chance that the ring get washed away and disappear into the sea???
Taking a big gulp, he whispered,“Well, technically I am hiding something from you..”
You look like you were about to burst into tears, he hastily kneeled down on one knee.
Plans be damned. For once in his life he will just wing it.
“I.. I had all these things planned out.” he took a deep breath as he launch into his impromptu speech, “step by step, down to the tiniest details.” he did a nervous chuckle as you clench his hand tight, “ But, like the previous two times, you came crashing into my life,throwing me off unexpectedly, giving me surprises after surprises.” he can feel himself trembling as he takes out the box from the pocket, where he has been hiding the ring.
“My darling, my first and only love. The beautiful girl with innocent eyes and the sweetest temper who had captured my heart.” You gasped out loud as you realise what is he about to do.
“I have been in love with you since the first time we ever met as a child. Right under that lemon tree.” his voice wavering, trying hard not to break down with high emotion.
“You have always been in the back of my mind. All those years. And I am so glad fate gave us another chance. Finding each other again. Although I failed to recognise you at first at our second meeting,” letting out a small chuckle.
“Can I be that lucky person, to spend the rest of my life with you? To be that person you see when you open your eyes first thing in the morning, and for you to give me goodnight kisses before I go to sleep at night, to remind me how fortunate and thankful that I have you. My forever love."
You couldn’t even let out a coherent response, just nodding your head furiously as you throw yourself at Kyle, arms around him tight as you start to cry, with happiness.
Both of you sank down into the sandy beach, with Gaz in relief everything worked out at the end, and with you finally find out why he is acting all weird for weeks.
And all of sudden both of you hear people clapping and whistling, shouting out congratulating words.
You buried your face into his neck, in embarrassment.
“Oh gosh…”
“Oh dear.. Didn’t expect to have audiences gathering…” Gaz chuckled nervously. “Sorry, that was not part of my plan either..”
You let out a little sobbing laugh, “Always a planner.” ‘
“I sure am. But it didn't quite work out this time round.” pulling away from you slightly, he moved his hand to cup your face, “but I am glad it all worked out at the end. I love you, my darling.Thank you for everything.”
“I love you too Kyle.” Leaning into his forehead. “Now we have the rest of our lives to look forward to.”
“So,I heard you had to wing it at the end aye?”
“Shut up Soap. At least I did have plans beforehand. It half worked.”
“Sure. Whatever you say…”
partly based on how my friend's husband proposed to her. he kept refusing to go into the ocean because he had the rings in his pocket.....
Tag list :
@deadbranch
@kaplerrr
@homicidal-slvt
@voxyin
@lia0-0
@floral-force
@saltofmercury
@siilvan
@rileyslibrarian
@mistydeyes
@okayyadriana
@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world
@jynxmirage
@nrdmssgs @schr-torta @glitterypirateduck @devcica @cumikering @roosterr
@groguspicklejar
@obsolescent @whydoilikewhump
SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT!
Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, Oh No! and Are You Satisfied? are much too basic songs to analyze Dr. Ratio to! Just because he's a scholar doesn't mean that he has academic trauma!" WRONG! Before we start, I have been researching psychology for approximately six years and I plan to go into it professionally. HOWEVER, that said, I am NOT a professional (YET. One day I will be. Yay for Aurae!) so understand that everything I come to conclusions about has been analyzed with some personal judgement, personal interpretations, and this is just what I have concluded with the info that I have deconstructed from his brain. If you disagree, that's fine!
I will be pulling from my own experiences with being a "golden" and "gifted" child, as well as the experiences I've had speaking to other people who were those. I will also be pulling from my experiences of researching and seeing how people with superiority complexes work, as well as diving into how those work (from what I've seen, as well as how they conceal a lack of self-esteem).
OKAY, NOW THAT THAT LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, ALLOW ME TO WORK MY PSYCH ENJOYER MAGIC! Let's deconstruct Dr. Ratio like a lego toy.
Let's start off with how Dr. Ratio presents himself. When you first meet him, he seems like a haughty, arrogant asshole. He likes to PRESENT himself as a stoic, superior scholar who is purely in it to win it, and I got total "*stares down at your tiny body and laughs at how you lack knowledge*" vibes at the very start, due to how he goes around calling people idiots all the time. However, he DOES lose the idgaf war, and we can very quickly see that he does care for other people, even if in his own, strange way. Dr Ratio presentation: An asshole. The reality?
His entire character is based around the idea of helping the masses. He wishes to spread knowledge through the cosmos and give people who didn't have access to it, access. He's a harsh teacher, and calling people 'idiots' is NOT the way to motivate them, but he's doing his best™.
Actually, no, I'm going to go full psych into this. Okay, so here starts the Dr. Ratio and my FATHER COMPARISONS. My father is a professor and he is often called a harsh grader by his students. However, I've spoken to him multiple times because I was curious - why is he so harsh and diligent with his grading system? The answer is - he wants them to actually learn. When he's grading, he gives them harsh marks because he wants them to know exactly where they messed up, and he's always willing to stay after hours to help students understand where they can't. My father also is an enjoyer of knowledge, and for as long as I've remembered, he has prioritized teaching me how to think critically. He wants me to be able to think for myself - and I think that's what Dr. Ratio wants, too. He wants for his students to be able to fully comprehend and absorb the information that he teaches, and although his methods are harsh, he genuinely wants to help. My father's like this too - he hates students that waste his time or aren't here because their hearts are in it. Dr. Ratio hates people who aren't taking their education seriously because knowledge is important. Knowledge is a tool, and to disregard it completely is lowkey kind of insulting - especially when there are people who weren't privileged enough to actually get it, so this isn't something that you should take for granted. Dr. Ratio despises people who take knowledge for granted.
Also, I disagree with the claims that say that Dr. Ratio hates the genius society. He shows open respect for them in his voice lines. Just check them if you need proof. Also, I'll delve into the idea of Aeons and recognition later.
Now that we’ve established that Dr. Ratio kins my dad, let’s let's tackle the 'stoic' allegations. He is LOSING the idgaf war. Like, really badly. He has a temper of a thousand suns and snaps at people frequently, despite his 'impassive' face, his tone holds a LOT of emotion. He seems to feel very deeply and has a shit ton of empathy for others - why else would he be dedicating his entire career to helping others? Of course, he doesn't express this in 'typical' ways of being openly kind - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care for other people. In fact, he seems to be pretty good at putting himself in the shoes of others and understanding them - expressed in the 2.1 quest where he tells Aventurine to tell him if he can't hold on any longer. Also, he loses the IDGAF war because he is actively trying to help people who want to learn and trying to spread logic and knowledge across the cosmos to those who didn't have it before. Would a man who didn't GAF do that? No!
Now that we've covered his view on knowledge and the way that he presents himself, let's turn to the way that he SEES himself. Now, this is where we get into the nitty gritty of gifted child trauma & academic trauma as well as crippling expectations. It's literally explicitly said in his character stories that he sees himself as mediocre, and it's canon that he doesn't have a good view of himself. His self-esteem is down in the fucking trenches along with my sanity as I write this analysis. The reality is - being called a genius your whole life doesn't really make you feel better about yourself. I'd know. I was. In fact, it makes you feel fucking worse when you can't live up to an expectation. We all fail in life. It's part of being human. But when you're held to such high standards - idolized for your knowledge and the way that you're 'gifted' - the crash comes really fucking hard. Failure is inevitable, and when people who are held on that pedestal experience it, they take it really bad.
The reality is that nobody - not even geniuses - are perfect, but you grow up believing that you are. Then, when you fail for the first time, it all comes tumbling down. The first time I came home with a bad grade was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I hadn't studied because I was arrogant and I thought that I was smart enough to pass without putting any extra effort into it - because I was a 'gifted' child, right? I should've been able to do it without studying like the other kids. And that's the thing with gifted children – you grow reliant on that title. You cling onto it for dear life for motivation, as well as self-perception. Little by little, the person you are falls apart as you slave away to the perception other people have of you. I think basically every gifted child that I've ever spoken to is a victim of this – and of course, you can heal from this mindset - but it's a hard one to shake.
Ratio's way of presenting himself as being a 'genius' and 'arrogant' also seems to contradict the way that he calls himself 'mundane' at the same time. However, these are two mindsets that can coexist. One part of you believes that you are a genius and that you are perfect, while the other part is crumbling and calling yourself good-for-nothing every time you make a mistake. It's a tiring cycle to live in. This usually leads to people shutting themselves out and closing themselves off after living like that, pushing back your own feelings in favour of being the perfect child. However, we don't know the exact details of Dr. Ratio's childhood, but we can infer that he was held to a pedestal, and this is a very harmful mindset for a child to have.
His superiority complex comes both from how other people view him, but it's a way to cope with his crippling lack of self-esteem. I'm sorry my guy. Also helping others probably helps him feel like he's worth something and makes him feel better because he bases his entire worth off of what he can do and how he can help others. However, this is just my personal interpretation backed by what I have already deconstructed.
In general, this is an easy way to crush self-esteem. You spend your whole life working to meet the image of what other people think you are. In fact, another reason why Dr. Ratio might be so harsh is because that’s the kind of attitude he holds towards himself when conducting research – he’s as hard on himself as he is to others. You end up hating the idea of failure, instead of seeing it as it should be - a way to improve and grow. Actually, I think this could be a reason that he went out of his way to break that illusion of 'worshipping geniuses' in the Space Station. Maybe some sort of childhood connection? Personal connection? In his endeavour to spread more knowledge and make people think for themselves and not blindly follow geniuses, to wake them up and let them think for themselves - maybe, somewhere, in there, he's helping that little child that was almost dehumanized for his intelligence. TLDR: Conflicting mindsets due to trauma, brain vs heart almost - his knowledge that he is a genius vs the crippling lack of his self worth.
Now that we've established Dr. Ratio's self worth, let's take a look at the impact Aeons had on him. Nous, the Aeon of Knowledge itself. I think in a world where the Gods are real, tangible beings that you can reach out and talk to - it makes sense that someone with high ambition and someone who's been called a genius his whole life would seek the confirmation of Nous. When you're a man of knowledge, and you've spent your whole life working with it, being praised for it – it feels natural to look for a god to look down upon you and bless you, right? The Genius Society – it should house him, because he is a genius as well, right? Imagine this – you have been called a genius your whole life, held to that kind of pedestal for so long, and now you wait for the recognition of the Gods. Because if you truly are a genius – then surely, a higher being will recognize your intelligence, right?
The invitation never comes.
And then, comes the doubt.
What if I'm really not a genius? What if everything I've worked for is a lie? Aeons are beings that are 'absolute'. If the god of Knowledge won't accept you or even cast a glance upon you, does that mean that everything was wrong. Gods see more than humans, after all. Gods know more than humans - and that spiral... I think you can see if. (If you don't let me know. I will ramble about how a failure like that can make you spiral down into a worse mindset).
However, the reason why Ratio was never invited to the Genius Society is simple. It’s because he LOSES THE IDGAF WAR. Now, if we look at all the people we know who are in the Genius Society - we find one thing in common. They’re in it to win it for themselves. They don’t help others using the knowledge that they’ve gotten - they use it to pursue shit for themselves. The people of the Genius Society are inherently self-serving. They WIN the idgaf war. Ratio LOSES. Do we see now?
Ratio’s empathy is the reason why he wasn’t let in. He is too human. Nous is a computer. Herta is detached from people. Ruan Mei is literally looking at life as test subjects. Screwllum is a robot.
OUR DOCTOR MAN LOST THE IDGAF WAR, BECAUSE HE IS HUMAN AND FEELS FOR OTHERS!!!
Also, it’s a plausible theory that Nous’s definition of ‘genius’ is different from the human definition of ‘genius’ – it’s a computer, after all. Who knows what’s going on in that code head of its.
However, we still love you Ratio. Never stop losing the IDGAF war.
TLDR: Nous is a computer. It is also in it to win it. It is also self serving. It gazes upon the hoes who are here to win it for themselves. Ratio is busy serving the masses and cooking knowledge in his frying pan. To it, there is no logical reason to be doing this. Therefore, no reason to invite this guy to the Genius Society.
Ratio’s gifted child trauma says otherwise. He wants in. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been working his whole life as a genius.
Nous is like… nah bro, you care too much. Ratio is like, ‘what the fuck?’ And then the AEON OF KNOWLEDGE GOES FOR THE MILK.
Okay, now, quick shoutout to Ratio wanting to help others. He is just like me fr. SO BASICALLY, RECAP OF EVERYTHING I JUST SAID:
Ratio LOSES the idgaf war because he cares about other people. Spent his whole life as the golden egg, and then turns to the gods for recognition because of the inherent trauma of being a child genius. He goes, "hey bro, can you confirm that I am in fact a genius?" and Nous goes, "no, you are too busy cheffing for the masses." Ratio goes, "what the fuck?" and then we collectively realize his attitude comes from blocking off his feelings (while failing miserably), being salty about not being recognized, being put on a pedestal for his whole life, and his crippling depression *cough* lack of self worth *cough*.
Oh, and the "I will never be enough" thought train probably hits him every single day. He is not enough to be recognized by a God. Gods are superior to humans. Maybe nothing has worth after all. Hey, that's Nihility! Hi IX, let's hear what you have to say.
*muffled ix noises*
I see, I see.
The consensus is: HE'S TRAUMATIZED BY EXPECTATIONS! HE WILL PROBABLY SUFFER FROM BURNT OUT GIFTED CHILD IF HE HAS NOT ALREADY!
Okay, now, before I delve into song lyrics (and I KNOW this has been long, just bear with me) I want to talk a little bit (read: a lot) about his relationship with Aventurine. We all know that he cares about Aventurine in his own way. But I want to pull in another idea that I didn’t cover before:
Ratio’s fucking emotional constipation.
Basically, the reason why he has trouble connecting with others is because he was most likely alienated by others as a symptom of being called a genius and being put on a pedestal. This makes him seem unapproachable to his peers, most likely, and therefore, as a result, doesn’t know how to properly connect with others. This just makes his way of presenting affection and care to others even more challenging – because he just doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy and clear way. Academic trauma causing emotional problems, because he’s probably a little bit out of touch with his own. Processing? No! Research. Also, this is very important for understanding Ratio’s character in my opinion, because he’s just a little guy who doesn’t know how to articulate. Maybe he’s got a touch of the ‘tism. Tism mutuals, do we agree or disagree?
However, in comes Aventurine. Love Aventurine, but they are both emotionally constipated. Aventurine displays his affection in ways that Ratio probably only catches after re-analyzing their time together about five times. He’s also a very closed off individual – but Ratio knows this. A cute thing is that Ratio is patient where he needs to be, even if he’s generally a pretty hot-headed guy, and I’m like… bro… that letter… “I wish you the best of luck”... I will wait for you…. GAY ASS MAN…
Sorry the Aventio demons took over. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that they both have nonverbal communication with one another that they clearly decipher and Ratio obviously cares for him (he came back and almost jeopardized the plan just for the sake of his ‘coworker’... okay gayboy…) and they just have such a neat little dynamic… Aventurine lets Dr. Ratio do his thing… understands his emotional alienation to a degree…. they’re so neat….
Okay, Aventurine segment over. NOW, FINALLY, WE CAN GET TO THE SONG LYRICS!!! YAY!!!! We all cheered!!!
We are going to be here for two more amber eras, because I realized I actually want to analyze every single lyric from both of these songs. Brace yourself for like, 2k more words. Help.
I think it’s only proper that we start off with ‘Oh No!’ the song that has haunted me since my childhood.
“Don’t do love, don’t do friends
I’m only after success
Don’t need a relationship
I’ll never soften my grip”
Remember when I mentioned that alienation was a big part of Ratio lore? Yeah, that manifests itself in this. When you spend your entire life chasing after knowledge and being held to that standard of untouchable genius, it makes sense that you couldn’t connect with others and that you turn your gaze only to success. Therefore, relationships that are interpersonal lose meaning for a bit – you’re just looking for answers and ways to help them, not connect with them. Also, this is what he wants to do – so he’s never going to pass down an opportunity to better himself or to help someone else.
“Don’t want cash, don’t want card
Want it fast, want it hard
Don’t need money, don’t need fame
I just want to make a change
I just wanna change, I just wanna change”
This is directly alluding to his reasonings for distributing knowledge across the cosmos. Was he based on this song? Maybe he was. He’s not looking for money or fame, his ultimate goal is actually pretty selfless – to bring knowledge and give people the tools they need to think for themselves. He just wants to make a change – he just wants people to be able to have access to knowledge and help cure ‘stupidity’. He wants to do it as quickly as possible, always reaching for lofty goals that might seem impossible, but he will make them possible.
“I know exactly what I want and who I want to be
I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine
I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy
Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no, oh!”
Ratio knows his goal. He knows what he’s working towards. I do believe that he understands why he is the way that he is – he has a degree in Psychology, after all. He knows how he’s been hurt but at the same time, the trauma brain probably doesn’t want to recognize it and he hasn’t stepped into healing yet. He knows what he went through impacted him, but he’s too busy helping others to help himself. He’s becoming what he wants to be, and yet he’s not, all at the same time – which causes the idea of “oh no!” as a kind of cry for help, almost. He’s too proud to ask for it himself, of course, so he’ll fall alone until someone manages to catch him and give him the strength to continue holding on. Aventurine is that.
“One track mind, one track heart
If I fail, I’ll fall apart
Maybe it is all a test
‘Cause I feel like I’m the worst
So I always act like I’m the best”
Now, these are the exact lyrics that made me associate this song with Ratio in the first place. He’s got a singular goal that he will do nothing to stop at getting, that he goes so far to get to. However, as I mentioned earlier, failure is not an option for those who were deemed gifted or genius. You are perfect, so therefore you must live up to everyone’s every expectation and surpass them, too, in order to keep your perception of yourself intact. Ratio does not hold himself in high regard, but acts arrogant in order to hold himself together and not fall to the self-deprecating thoughts, even if they fall through the cracks. It gets tiring to hold yourself together like that for a long time, you know?
“I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly
I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die
I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly
I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die”
Remember how I was talking about contradictory mindsets and how they can coexist. This is them. The feeling of crippling self-hatred and lack of self esteem versus the idea that you can do it, you can make a difference – you were born a genius, this is what you’re going to do. This is the knowledge that you are a genius vs the lack of self-esteem that Ratio has. “Mediocre” vs “genius” mindset, eh?
All the other lyrics in this song are repetitions of what I’ve analyzed before, so let’s move onto “Are you Satisfied?”
To be honest, there are only a few lines in this song that allow me to connect it to Ratio, so therefore, I will only be analyzing them. However, if you think that other lyrics can connect to him, I’d be interested in knowing how.
“What you’re gonna be
It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see
And I do not give a damn if you don’t believe
My problem, it’s my problem that I never am happy
It’s my problem, it’s my problem on how fast I will succeed”
Pretending to not care about how the world sees you is so fucking real. Sometimes, you really don’t give a shit, and sometimes it’s all you can think about. Ratio… doesn’t seem like he’s the happiest person. He works himself hard and he’s always chasing after a goal that must be exhausting. He’s always doing his best, and I think even with his empathy, it’s easy to start not giving a shit after trying for so long and so hard. Accepting help is one of the hardest things that anybody can do, especially with how much pride he has. His personal problems are his personal problems and he can deal with them on his own.
“High achiever, don’t you see?
Baby, nothing comes for free
They say I’m a control freak
Driven by a greed to succeed
Nobody can stop me”
Nothing comes for free. A lot of the things Ratio has achieved is due to his own intelligence, yes, but also because of a shit ton of hard work. His goal is literally to cure the universe of ‘stupidity’ – and that’s a pretty large fucking goal. He is a high achiever who likes to know the details of every situation when he can in order to try and make things better, and he is driven by a greed to succeed. Why wouldn’t he be? Success is important, and success means helping more people. He isn’t going to allow himself to be stopped by anybody – not even anybody from the Genius society.
Okay, and we have finally reached the end of my analysis! This caps at around 4k words, so if you stuck around for this long, thank you so much. I would love to hear any of your comments, and I hope you laughed a little bit. Thank you again! This means so much to me that you read. <3